A Game to Survive
by Legna the Sorcerer
Summary: What happens if two corrupted fighters invite a group of characters from the Smash world, whether they've appeared briefly, or fighters to play a deadly game of survival? DISCONTINUED
1. The Game Begins

A soft, black feather the color of the night drifted lazily to the ground. In the distance, bright lights illuminated the sky, for night had fallen. A flash of light hit the feather, given it an almost purple sheen to it. A light "fwap" sent the feather flying off on a wild course downward. Down in the distance, one could see a small town, dotted with trees with green leaves, a few small houses, some major buildings, including what looked like a shop, a museum, and a town gate. There were patches of dirt showing through the green grass where the grass refused to grow. If one got close enough to the ground, they could've been able to hear the soft gurgling of the river that snaked through the town, finally emptying into a vast ocean, one that seemed to go on forever without an end.

But the interesting thing that was going on wasn't in the town. In fact, there was a large platform somehow suspended above the town, with a smaller platform above that. Gathered atop it where many people there, though some couldn't have been considered humans. If one were to count them all, they'd be able to count at least over thirty gathered on the large platform. Above them on the smaller platform, though, were two more, although they seemed different from the others, besides being dressed in black. Something just didn't seem right about the two, as if something had happened to them, to separate them from the rest.

One of them looked like a young, teenage boy. But he wasn't some ordinary boy. In fact, he had wings that were as black as night attached to his back, and they were as real as the town below. His eyes were a pure black, not reflecting any light, as if he were dead. In his right hand, he held a blue bow lined with a golden edge. If he wanted to, he could detach it into dual blades, useful for putting someone in line. Some considered him a fallen angel, one whose heart was corrupted by darkness. . .

The other seemed a bit older than the angel, and was a swordsman. He was wearing a black outfit, just like the angel was. In his right hand, he held a sword that seemed perfect for cutting flesh nice and cleanly. His hair was a deep blue color, the color of sapphires. His eyes were the same color blue, and there was something about him that sent a chill down the others.

Who were they? Nobody knew. Why were they here? Again, nobody knew. But something about the two seemed to keep the others here. Maybe if they stayed, they could get out of this alive. . .

Then a small voice cut through the silence of the night.

"Why are we here?"

That ended up with many other voices shouting out questions, all at once, so no one could tell who said what, nor what they said.

Without saying a word, the angel cocked his bow, and an arrow made of light appeared. He released the arrow, and it shot into the middle of the group below, causing them to fall to silence. The swordsman got up to his feet, and started to speak.

"You are all here to play a game. Depending on how well you play will decide your fates." The way he said it caused fear to spread to the group below. A game? What kind of game? Then the angel got up to speak.

"When the sun rises, one of you will have turned into a trophy, the worst thing that can befall a fighter. When that time comes, you shall vote on who you think did it. There are traitors in your group, in which we have turned. Then there are three others with a special power. Try not to vote them out.

"Whoever you vote out will then be turned into a trophy. If they vanish in a flurry of purple smog, then you have gotten a traitor. If not, then you have just lost someone. Play well, and you shall live. Fail, and may you never see the light of day again."

With that, no one spoke, as the day was arriving, all too quickly.


	2. The First Victim

The sun soon rose above the low horizon, and everyone was still here. It seemed like no one was going to be turned into a trophy. Some were getting anxious, some getting a bit braver. Soon, the sun had started to set, and no one had turned into a trophy yet.

Eventually, someone shouted, "This is a joke! We're not going to die!" That someone was a female named Zelda. She was one of those who were getting anxious, and braver. Also, she felt as if this was only a trick, a menial prank to scare them all.

The two dark-claded ones on the smaller platform didn't say anything. They just continued to watch from above.

"Well?! Say something, creeps! This is all a prank, isn't it? None of us are going to turn into trophies!" Zelda shouted.

The angel and the dark knight just gave each other a look. One gave a slight smile. Something was up, they could tell. Before anyone could ponder any longer, Zelda shrieked as if she were in agonizing pain. Under her feet, something black, like shadows, swirled around her feet, bits of lightning shooting up. Her screaming seemed to grow louder and louder, and when it seemed as if she was going to reach a breaking point, a slight flash of light blinded the ones closest to the princess.

As soon as the light disappeared, all that was left was a trophy. From somewhere above, a slight sound could be heard, but no one took any notice. All of a sudden, someone lunged at the trophy base, trying to revive her. Just as they were about to touch the base, the fallen angel flew down at an astonishing speed and snatched up the trophy, and ended up flying over the edge with the trophy.

The group stood watching, thinking he was going to suffer a near-similar fate himself. One of them looked over the edge, only to be nearly decapitated as the angel sped straight up with the trophy in his hands. He then landed on the smaller platform with grace, as if he didn't just suffer a near death himself.

As he sat down with the trophy next to him, the dark knight announced, "Looks like the wolves have gotten their first victim. It had nothing to do with her saying anything." But the way he said warranted a shutting up in the future.

"Okay, enough. You guys are going to vote on who you think did this to her. Otherwise, it's time to warrant another attack." Everyone immediately started to vote on who they think did this.


	3. A Threat Is Coming

**Author's Note**

_Ugh, I didn't think this chapter was going to be _this_ short. . . So sorry, so please. . . Ignore the shortness, I tried my best. ;_

_I also want to say I am actually writing every other chapter, but I won't post my partner's chapters here. But I'll try my best to make it not seem weird. ; But I guess I'll say who was gone in my partner's chapter. Gone from the game now are Mewtwo and Krystal. Happy reading? :P_

--

Fear. Mistrust. Those were only two of the words that could be used to describe how these "participants" were feeling. It was because three of them weren't to be trusted. It was because of the fact that they were forced to stay here "playing" this "game". It was. . . because of _those_ two.

It was. . . time to vote. No one wanted to be turned into a trophy; that was as bad as death itself. They all voted for someone, whether it was some stranger, or their close friend, just hoping to stay "alive" for just a little while longer.

Votes were soon tallied to reveal that Meta Knight was chosen. Saying nothing, he stepped forward, awaiting his fate. "They will regret voting me out," the warrior thought before the Dark Knight, Marth, came down from the platform.

"Looks like you were chosen, "he said with a slight smirk. Meta Knight responded, "Indeed, I have been chosen," and then he attacked Marth with a Mach Tornado, knocking him up into the sky. Meta Knight then leapt after Marth. Before Meta Knight could do anymore damage, the Dark Angel, Pit, shot an arrow of light at Meta Knight, allowing Marth enough time to recover from the attack.

As Meta Knight fell heavily to the floor, Marth said, "Looks like your attack failed. You must've forgotten that there were two of us." Marth then proceeded to turn Meta Knight into a trophy with a single swipe of his sword, the Falchion.

As the trophy of Meta Knight stood there, some sort of blue glow emanated from the base before it disappeared.

"Looks like your seer's gone," sneered Pit.

--

The sun had set on the world of Smashville, and the pressing threat of the next victim grew. It wasn't long until everyone was asleep. No one saw the attack on one of the participants, nor did they see a trophy get moved to the top platform. But as the sun rose, the glint of light reflecting off a trophy woke everyone up.

"Awake already?" a voice from above said. The words, "At least you didn't witness the traitors choosing a victim," caused everyone to look up quickly to see a trophy of R.O.B. on the top platform, angled to reflect the light of the rising sun onto the others below. The wolves had struck when sleep had enveloped most of them. "After we vote for today, we are moving spots," Marth said to them all.

As the frantic votes started up, no one, not even the "hosts" of this game, knew of the danger that was arising. For every participant turned into a trophy, there were going to be less to fight off this upcoming threat, and it would only grow stronger as time passed. . .


End file.
